A short film on fly fishing that I found, and some thoughts

An hour spent fishing adds a day to your life.  I usually feel more connected to God when I’m out on the river.  You’ll usually find my hand hanging at my side when I’m swinging a fly, letting the stream run through my fingers.  I do this as a sort of gesture to sort of tell myself “I’m here.  I’m connected to this and I’m a part of this.”  It is the experience of being connected with His creation, and not winning a prize.  It is being “in the moment” while chasing for the goal of catching fish.


Turkey Flies

I found something that I should get or tie just to say that I did.  If I caught a fish with this one, that should deserve a gold medal.


I bet fish will gobble this one



Fathers and Sons: Passing on Traditions

One of the cool things I get to do when I’m out fishing is watching other fathers bring their sons out to the water to experience fishing.  I can think of no better memorial to the sport than the passing on of the tradition of fishing from a father to a son or daughter.  It’s not uncommon to see a 7-9 year old son out with his father in hip waders casting his line out in the water.  I had a chance to view a dad with a couple of his boys on Christmas Eve morning.  What a wonderful way to spend time with the family!

I remember seeing my own son’s eyes light up when he started reeling in a little pumpkin seed bluegill on his Spider Man rod, then shortly after distracted by the also time-honored tradition of throwing rocks in the water.  It is usually times like that when I remember my own father’s patience with me, and taking me up at my own game and casting rocks right along side of me.  Each child comes at their own pace, and each come to love the sport in their own fashion, but the process is the same.